The Burger Bunch
by shitpostaesthetic
Summary: Jimmy Pesto has a termite problem, and no place to go! Can the Belchers and the Pestos learn to coexist?
1. Chapter 1

"Dad!"

"Hey, Dad!"

The man turned from his customers, looking down at his twin boys. They seemed urgent, jumping up and down. He sighed.

"What?"

"Dad! There are bugs!"

"There are bugs in the wall!"

Jimmy Pesto hesitated, turning to his customers. He didn't want any sort of panic among his customers, he couldn't let something like this get out, if the twins were telling him the truth. Not that they were notorious liars, they just happened to be a little eccentric. He laughed, pushing them away from the crowd and behind the counter.

"What are you talking about?"

"There are bugs in the wall!"

"Yeah, and they're eating the wood!"

"What? Show me."

They grabbed his hands, running up to their apartment. They led him down the hall, past his room, past the bathroom, his other son's room, until they brought him into their room. They dropped his hands and rushed to their dresser, each twin on either side, pushing it away from the wall. He was genuinely curious now, tilting his head to get a better look. Behind the dresser, he saw some small holes in the wall, clear indications that something small had been eating away at the wood. He shook his head.

"No, no, this can't happen, not at my restaurant."

Without saying a word, he ran from the twins' room, to the kitchen, where he grabbed the phone. He knelt to get under the cupboard, and searched around until he found his big yellow phone book. He crossed his legs, and flipped through the book, desperately trying to find a certain number. He hardly noticed when his three kids walked into the room.

"Dad, what's going on?" His oldest, Jimmy Jr, asked.

"Not now, Jimmy."

The man shooed away his sons, and pointed a finger on a number, tapping them into the phone. He listened urgently as it rang a few times, before a formal voice picked up.

"Hello, Termite-mare On Elm Street, this is David speaking, how may I help you?"

"Yes, hello, I've got a bit of a termite problem here, I need you to come quick,"

"Doesn't everybody," David laughed, Jimmy rolled his eyes to himself, "How quickly do you need?"

"Soon as possible. I've gotta restaurant, Jimmy Pesto's, I don't know if you've heard of it?"

"Oh, Jimmy Pesto's! I love that place!"

"Really? Well, if you come quicker I might be able to get you some coupons for a free meal."

"Are you serious? That'd be awesome! I'll pencil you in on Wednesday!"

"Oh, you're the best! Thank you so much."

"Anything for Jimmy Pesto! You can expect exterminators there between 9 and 12. I assume you know to take everything you need before they begin?"

"Of course, only an idiot would leave without taking the things they need!" Jimmy laughed.

"Alright, have a good day, Mr Pesto,"

"And to you!" With that, he hung up the phone, and smiled. Another crisis averted. He found himself privately gloating until his son spoke up again.

"Uh, Dad? Where are we gonna stay?"


	2. Chapter 2

The man rubbed his neck, mumbling to himself. How could have let himself come to this? To have so few allies that his only option was to ask his least favourite person, his sworn enemy for a spare room? He'd tried everything, his ex wife was out of town, Trevor's apartment was barely enough space for Trevor alone, and he hadn't spoken to his parents since the twins were born. It wouldn't matter so much to him if he didn't have three kids, he'd gladly spend a few nights sleeping on a bench if it weren't for Jimmy Jr and the twins. He didn't have a choice.

Hesitating, Jimmy marcched across the street. He scowled as he saw Bob and his wife, Linda, chatting with their regulars. Their own three kids were sitting in the empty seats, playing with straws and laughing. He slowed down. Maybe he didn't have to do this? Maybe Trevor wouldn't mind the cramped quarters. He stopped outside the door, cursing himself, before throwing it open. Too late now.

"Bob."

"What do you want, Jimmy?"

"Listen, listen," He strolled to the counter, took a seat, "Recently, I have discovered of some unfortunate pests in my usually immaculate restaurant, unlike yours, and I don't really have a place to stay. I really hate to ask, but I've tried everything-"

"No, no, no, no, no..."

"Would you let my family stay at your place until the fumigation is over?"

"No, no, no, we can't," Bob shook his head, "We've got three kids, and so do you, plus, why would I let you stay at our place when you're not even nice to me?"

Linda huffed, "Come on, Bobby, they've got nowhere to go! Jimmy can sleep on our couch, and the boys can sleep in Gene's room."

"Yeah, Dad, have some compassion!" Gene proclaimed.

"I don't think it's-"

"Bobby! Come on!"

"Fine, but just until the fumigation is done, then they're out."

"Yeah, I knew you'd give in! I'll go tell my kids to pack up."

With that, Jimmy hopped off his stool and swaggered back to his own restaurant, leaving Bob with his mouth hanging open. Linda was beaming.

"Alright, I'll go get their rooms ready!"

"Yeah, I want to go too!" Louise shimmied from her seat and chased after Linda.

"Mom party!" Gene exclaimed.

The three Belcher children followed their mother. Teddy and Mort looked at Bob.

"Are you really gonna go through with this, Bob?" Mort, the owner of the morgue next store, asked.

Teddy, a plumber, spoke up, "Yeah, you hate that guy."

"Well," Bob said, "I don't know. I really don't want to do this."

"So, why are you?" Mort asked.

"I mean, as much as I hate the guy, he's got nowhere to go, and he's got kids too. And Lin's already excited about it, you know how she is. Remember when she tried to tun our house into a bed and breakfast?"

"Oh, yeah, that was great, I loved that."

"Teddy, no, it went horribly out of control. It was bad."

"Oh."

"It'll probably just be a weekend, right? And then it's over. Won't be that bad," Bob wandered from behind the counter, "Just a weekend."

He stopped in front of the window, where he could see Pesto on his cell phone. He frowned as Pesto noticed him and stuck his thumb up, grinning. Bob felt sick.


	3. Chapter 3

"Jimmy Jr, come on, hurry up! We gotta go!"

"Hold on, Dad! I'm almost done!"

The man rolled his eyes as he stood in the kitchen with his suitcase. He had everything he needed all packed up, he'd even managed to get his twins packed up. Unfortunately, his eldest hadn't even looked at his suitcase until the night prior, so obviously he wasn't ready and he was holding them up. Jimmy tapped his foot. He would not be late to this. He wouldn't allow it.

"Are you done, yet?"

"I can't find my good shoes!"

Jimmy huffed, "You don't need your good shoes, just bring your regular ones."

"But they're not good for dancing!"

"Dammit, Jimmy, the Belchers' don't want to see that. Just come on."

The man could hear his eldest grunt, throw his suitcase onto the floor, and slam his door. _Here we go, _he thought. The boy stomped out of the hallway, dragging his bag behind him. Jimmy could hear music blaring from his headphones, harsh, angry guitars and banging drums. He picked up his bags and headed towards the door. He already wasn't a fan of the teen years, and Jimmy Jr had just begun his. He tried not to imagine what life would be like once the twins entered their teens. The three kids followed their father downstairs, into their restaurant and out. The twins held onto to eachother, trying to not be the one to walk, and laughing hysterically. Jimmy Jr stuffed his one hand in his pocket, and dragged his suitcase, bopping his head to the music. They seemed like a tiny parade, a dysfunctional version of the famous photo of the Beatles. They stopped outside of the restaurant, Jimmy already regretting his decision. The twins threw open the door.

"Hi Louise, and Gene, and Tina's mom and dad!"

"Hi, Andy, hi, Ollie!" Linda called from behind the counter. She was preparing a cup of coffee, the warm smell filling the restaurant.

Jimmy wore a scowl as he walked to the counter, "So, where should we put our stuff? Hopefully you actually have beds for us, and not just the dumpster outside your dinky restaurant."

"Oh, my god, yeah, let me just turn the sign to 'closed'."

"Bob, that's hilarious, you won't need that. It's not like you'll be missing any business."

"Alright! Let's go!" Linda exclaimed, smiling.

"Kids, come help with the Pestos," Bob demanded, calling out.

"Jeez, okay Dad." Gene said, and the Belcher kids appeared from the back.

"Okay, Gene."

"Okay, Dad."

Linda lead the charge, taking the group outside of the restaurant and right to the front door of the Belcher house. The group walked up the stairs into the apartment, straight into the living room. Jimmy tossed his suitcase onto the couch, surveying the room. He nodded.

"It's a nice place, Linda," Bob glowered as he realized Jimmy spoke directly to Linda when he gave a compliment.

"Thank you, Jimmy!" Linda was all too pleased to receive the compliment, however, as she had spent so much time cleaning and rearranging furniture-two inches to the left. Each piece of furniture. Bob thought it was unnecessary, but didn't stop her when she and the kids moved the couch. He thought it was sort of funny. Tina sidled up to Jimmy Jr, who still wore his earphones moodily. She stood, silently, fiddling with her thumbs. She brushed back her hair, trying to get his attention. She mumbled a hello, and groaned as she got no reply, not realizing the lack of reply was due to his loud, apoplectic music.

"Come on, Andy, Ollie, you're sleeping in my room." Louise took their shared suitcase and fumbled to her room, the twins following cheerfully behind.

"Alright, Jimmy Jr, let's get you set up in Gene's room!" Linda said, tugging on the boy's arm, guiding him.

"Wait, wait, wait, _my room?" _Gene followed the pair, protesting.

Jimmy looked at Bob, rubbing the nape of his neck. His stomach growled, reminding him of the time. It was already dinner time back at the Pesto home; he wasn't sure when the Belchers' had dinner. He furrowed his eyebrows, turning to Bob, "So, Belcher, when are we getting some food around here?"

Bob rolled his eyes, groaning, "You'll get it when you get it."

"So, should I just put my suitcase out here?"

"Yeah, yeah, just put it beside the couch. Don't get it in the way."

"Bob, please," Jimmy laughed, "Your dumb face gets in the way enough." It felt strange to not have Trevor right there to validate his insults.

"Oh my god, whatever. I'm going to start dinner, just stay here."

Bob walked down the hall, leaving Jimmy to his own accord. He sat down on the couch, rubbing his hand over the material. He crossed and uncrossed his legs, uncomfortable with being alone in the house of restaurant rival. He stood up, walked to the window. Scowling, he looked down at his restaurant. It looked so bad, all covered up, being fumigated. He'd have to push this aside once the bugs were gone. Maybe he could make it into a joke? Could he get away with a bug pizza night? No, he thought, that would not go over well. Bugs and restaurants do not mix.

Groaning, he realized he had to use the washroom. Bob hadn't told him where anything in his damned house was, so Pesto sighed. He walked out of the living room, maybe it was down this hall. They still had their kids' baby pictures up, that was charming. Pesto had taken his photos of his kids down once the twins started kindergarten. He loved them, but he needed more space to put his special trophies. He kept a few in his bedroom, but otherwise, most of his photos went into scrapbooks and photo albums. He passed a door, saw his twins and the youngest Belcher, Louise, jumping on the bed. He chuckled, concerned at the size of the room. It looked tiny, almost like a closet. His stomach hurt, that was not enough space for his twins. Turning his head, he spotted what seemed to be the bathroom. He headed towards the door.

He stopped in his tracks. Something was starting to smell. He followed his nose, walking through a door and straight into the Belcher kitchen. Linda sat at a table in the middle of the room, reading something off of a laptop, while Bob hovered over a bowl, mumbling. Jimmy put his hands on his hips, grinning smugly. The Belchers looked absolutely clueless in the kitchen, it was a wonder their restaurant had lasted this long. Linda looked up, smiling, said hello.

"What are you guys making?" He walked over to Bob, who tried to turn away from.

"We're making lasagna!" Linda lowered the screen of her laptop a little, turning to Jimmy, "We know you guys have an Italian restaurant, and lasagna is pretty Italian! It's turning out great!"

"I wouldn't exactly say great, Lin," Bob said, eyebrows furrowed as he stared into the bowl. It seemed to be filled with some sort of red mush and shredded cheese. Pesto grimaced.

"Yeah, that's not even close to great. Italy would be offended."

"C'mon! We're trying for you, Jimmy." Linda's optimistic voice rang out above Jimmy's heckling.

"Ugh, you know what, just give that to me. I know how to do it," He pushed Bob away from the dish, grabbing the spoon from his hand, "And go take care of the pasta on the stove. You're going to burn it."


End file.
